Confessions of a Teenage Reader: Ink-stained Hands

An idea sparked in my mind, promoted, of course, by a novel. This idea sparked and fizzled away for a while, until I read another novel. And I sat there, and I read a sentence over and over and over. And I needed that quote. And I wanted to remember that quote. And I wrote that quote on my hand, and I looked down at it periodically until it faded into my skin.

And that, my friends, is how my hands became perpetually ink-stained.

Ironically, I can’t remember the quote that made me stop and temporarily tattoo it into my hands. I do remember the book that started it all: We were Liars by E. Lockhart. For some reason, when Cady and her romantic interest (I can’t remember his name…) wrote words on their hands, I loved it. It was romantic. They wrote part of the sentence on the left and part on the right. Always something that would connect together. 

So, I read this fantastic quote and I thought, wow, I should write this on my hand.

Let’s back track. Some time ago, I watched this peculiar indie film called A Love Song for Bobby Long. I liked it well enough; it made me minimally uncomfortable, but it was okay. I think about that movie periodically, and for some reason, it’s been pretty influential. Bobby Long was a lost soul who used to be a college professor, and he dramatized everything and could quote long passages from famous writers without hesitation, and I’ve always aspired to be able to quote off the cusp.

And thus the quote jar was born. But I never took the time to find paper, write the quote, and stash it in the jar. I let it sit, collecting dust instead of words, for a year or so.

Flashforward again. Writing on my hands. Somehow, from this movie, the quote jar, and We were Liars, I realized that my arms and hands were perfect mediums to write on and be able to look at each day. For at least a day I’d be able to look down and read and reread these quotes as many times as I wanted. They’re comforting. A little piece of my novel when I can’t read. A snippet of gorgeous words to inspire or evoke emotion. I wish I started this habit when I was in the midst of We were Liars because that book is full of beautiful quotes.

Longer quotes I put on the inside of my forearm because a. that doesn’t wash off as easily as on my hands and b. I, unfortunately, am not ambidextrous, so it’s quite a feat when I write on my right hand. Usually the quotes that I write on both my hands are very short and cute and probably wouldn’t make sense if you hadn’t read the book. It’s like my own little inside jokes. Right now I have “(left) When I found (right) everything romantic” from The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan. I like the way the quotes are broken in places that should flow. I think it adds to the effect.

Now I’ve been doing this for a good many books, maybe ten or so. Then I got those little bookmarks that are arrows that point to the exact line you stop at. And I had an idea. I’d use those arrows and bookmark the good quotes and write said quote on my hand. Once the book is finished, I’ll pick the best bookmarked quote (maybe a couple, depending on the book) and write it on a more permanent material (like paper) and put it in the dusty quote jar.

Eureka! I now had a system. A tedious, somewhat complicated system that, if attempted to be explained to non-readers or non-romantics they’d ask me the universal question of why? Why would I spend all this time on these words? Why do I want to stain my hands with a never-ending cycle of quotes? What’s so special about them?

Well, my dears, I’ll tell you why. I want to win an argument by quoting a famous writer. I want to look at a piece of artwork in some high-class museum and say to my comrades, “this reminds me of a quote by… ‘…'” In short, I want to have all the tools to be completely pretentious. If I decide to use this power, it’s up to me. But the fact that I can is all that matters.

And I guess in a practical sense I can use it on exams and such in school. But who cares about that?

Anyway, in all seriousness, I just really like words. And, no, it doesn’t completely work. I don’t remember all the quotes I write, and some I do remember aren’t that significant. Here are a couple:

  • “Us fight” –Alice Walker, The Color Purple (this is a quote in dire need of context)
  • “We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that’s what I want in life.” –Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness
  • “You can find ways to be okay with dying, but you can’t fake your way through living.” –John Corey Whaley, Noggin

And my personal favorite, 

  • “The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels of the world and never forget about the drops of oil on the spoon.” –Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

The Alchemist was loaded with beautiful words and gorgeous quotes, but this is the only one I can recall instantly. I recommend the book, by the way.

I’ve decided, just now, that this can qualify as a hobby, and I adore it immensely. Sometimes I transcribe words that mean specific things to me, or cornerstones in the plot of the novel, or pieces of wisdom, or a beautiful line. I hope I’m not the only one who loves stealing these words.

Do any of you guys have an obsession with quotes? What’s your favorite bookish quote?

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Confessions of a Teenage Reader: Ink-stained Hands

  1. Pingback: Top Ten Inspiring Quotes from Books | Stealing Pages

  2. I am the opposite of most booklovers when it comes to this – I don’t make note of specific quotes very often at all. Lots of people have a slew of quotes that they love, and I always think I should keep better track of some for myself, but I haven’t done that yet. Maybe I’ll have to start writing them on my hands. 😉

  3. Pingback: Monthly Wrap-Ups: Jumping out of January | Stealing Pages

Thought Bubble

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s